


If it quacks like a duck

by Eikaron



Series: Ethereal Events and Occult Occurrences [3]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley being Difficult, Ducks, Gen, Humour, M/M, Slash if you squint, alarm clocks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 04:18:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14127894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eikaron/pseuds/Eikaron
Summary: Aziraphale annoying the hell out of Crowley (and vice versa), which is a fairly typical morning for them. One-shot.





	If it quacks like a duck

**Author's Note:**

> *dusts off another ancient fanfic from ff.net*

****QUACK! QUACK! QUACKQUACKQUACK!

„Aaaarrrgh! Blessyatosomewhere'nbackagain, angel! I've told you a million times how much I hate that fucking alarm clock! 'S not even time to get up! It's the middle of the night!“, were Crowley's first words on this fine Sunday morning. QUACK!

„It's ten in the morning, my dear.“, said Aziraphale calmly without looking up from his book. QUACK!

“That's what I just said. Shut. Up!”, roared Crowley and hit the off-button on the annoying device so hard he nearly caused it to topple of the nightstand. 1 “What kinda person has an alarm clock that's shaped like a duck anyway??”

“I like ducks. And I needed a clock.”, said the angel icily.

“You don't even _sleep_. You're just reading all night!” Which was exactly why he needed the alarm clock. The angel tended to forget everything around him while reading.

By now, Aziraphale annoyance had reached a 4 out of 10. 2 By the standards of everyone who knew him he looked thoroughly angry 3 or at least as thoroughly angry as a middle-aged, slightly overweight angelic bookseller can look.

“If you don't like my clock”, he snapped, “You could just go home and sleep in your _own_ bed for a start, you know!”

“You know exactly how I hate it to drive home late at this time of the year. It's _cold_. And the Bentley doesn't have heating. I'm a snake, for Go- someone's sake! I need warmth!” He flailed his arms wildly. Aziraphale just gave him a Look.

“You're a demon. You don't have to feel the cold” He raised a finger warningly when Crowley attempted to interrupt him. “I know exactly why you come here, old serpent!” Crowley tried to say something again but Aziraphale merely raised his voice and continued. “You just like to complain – that's why you 'forget' to turn off the duck clock everytime.” Silence followed this sentence.

“...............”

“...............”

“You're such a spoilsport, Angel”, Crowley said grumpily and miracled a fresh croissant from the oven of the bakery around the corner right into his hands.

Aziraphale smiled. “Glad I still manage to annoy you after all these centuries.”

 

* * *

 

1 Aziraphale had to perform a minor miracle at this point otherwise his beloved clock probably would have spontaneously combusted under Crowley's angry glare. 

2 Only Crowley ever managed to get him that far. Well, and Jehovah's Witnesses. But Aziraphale liked to pretend those didn't actually exist and were just a cruel figment of his imagination.

3 Except to Crowley who had once learned the hard way what divine wrath _really_ meant.

 

 


End file.
